Be My Wings
by missmandymalfoy
Summary: A moment of friendship between Draco and Blaise during pressuring times. Slytherins have their own form of comforting and helping out each other, even though it doesn't always show. One-shot, NOT SLASH. T for mild swearing


**Not slash, just good 'ole friendship**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

**Warnings: very mild language**

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**Be my wings**

Blaise Zabini flitted around the room looking for his hair gel. He had refused to go to dinner without making sure he looked "prime for the ladies" as he had put it, blatantly ignoring Draco's protests.

"Hurry it up, Blaise, I'm starving over here," Draco complained, leaning against the door jam. Blaise rolled his eyes, about to laugh at Draco and tell him that he was whining, but then stopped. Blaise turned to his friend. Draco wasn't even looking at him. The blonde was staring absently at the wall across him, tossing a snitch he had nicked down at the Quidditch pitch from hand to hand, never missing it.

At first, Blaise had tried to ignore it, but as it became more and more evident, he couldn't contain his worry for his best mate. Whenever Blaise pointed it out, Draco would always smirk and tell him to sod off. Like now.

"Maybe if you actually _ate_ something, you wouldn't be starving all the time," Blaise eyed him. Draco had lost a noticeable amount of weight. His face was hallow and his once bright eyes had dimmed. Now, Blaise had seen Draco in many difficult situations in which he would sink, but he always pulled himself back up again. But not now. Draco had hit rock bottom, and Blaise didn't know what to do. The young Malfoy heir could barely pull himself together in the morning. He just didn't care anymore.

Blaise wasn't going to pretend that he didn't know what was going on. He knew all about the task, and how it was tearing his best friend apart. Hell, he had even seen his Mark, but only briefly. When it first started, Blaise had tried to help Draco, but he had fiercely shoved him away. He didn't want Blaise to suffer the same fate. So Blaise had taken to helping Draco in ways he didn't know, or maybe he did know, he was just too scared to tell Blaise thanks. It was the little things, like putting a silencing charm around Draco's bed at night so that the other boys couldn't hear him sobbing himself to sleep, or when he had his wretched nightmares and woke up in a screaming fit. Sometimes it was just checking his homework, making sure he completed it so that no one suspected anything; covering for him when Potter got too nosy; or sometimes it was just pretending to be ignorant, acting like everything was normal. The good old days when the only thing that mattered was besting Gryffindor in matches, or earning points from teachers; acting like he didn't see that Draco's eyes would be red and puffy when he returned from the Room of Requirement or from a trip to the bathroom.

Draco was a time bomb, ticking away. Only when he went off, he wasn't going to hurt others. He was on self-destruct.

"You're not my mother," Draco frowned, huffing.

"You're right. I'm not. I would never make you do something like this," Blaise knew he had hit a sore spot. The snitch that Draco had so cleverly caught each throw dropped to the floor with a thud. Blaise watched as the precious golden ball rolled on the floor, no wings to support it.

Draco shoved his hand in his pocket, averting his eyes to the floor. "You promised you wouldn't talk about that. Besides, it doesn't concern you,"

"When a mother doesn't love her child, its concerning enough to me," Blaise said softly.

"My parents love me…they just have a different way of showing it," Draco said desperately. He was trying harder to convince himself then he was Blaise. Blaise watched him sadly. _They are too busy saving their own sorry asses that they don't pay mind to show any care for their only son_, he thought bitterly.

The two friends remained quiet. Blaise returned to searching for his hair gel. Getting frustrated, he through open his trunk, not expecting what came next.

A woman rose out of the trunk, tears streaming down her face, and screaming.

"They know! Blaise, they know!" Blaise was white with shock, and Draco had frozen, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes. He couldn't do anything about it.

"Mamma? What are you talking about?" Blaise asked frantically.

"I'm going to Azkaban, my dear boy. Just remember that I love you. Because this is all your fault," her eyes seemed to have sunken into her face. The once beautiful Lady Zabini was a zombie, trapped in her own body.

"My fault? But I didn't-"

"I understand Blaise. You didn't mean to, you would never betray me on purpose," She was obviously talking about her poor misfortunate husbands that ended up dying an "unexpected" death. She had escaped the Ministry and prison six times already.

"Mamma, I-I" Blaise was in shock.

"It was his family. They knew something wasn't right," she cried out, clawing at her eyes.

"Stop, don't do that!" Blaise cried out.

"Shh, it's okay. You'll be safe. You just have to run, Blaise, leave behind your life and everything you love and you'll be safe,"

There was no way this could be his mother. "I will receive the dementor's kiss, and remember, my sweet boy…it's your fault," she whispered. She reached out to cup his cheek, but Blaise drew back. This was not his mother…that meant….it was a boggart. What was the spell that got rid of those again? He knew they had some class on his back in third year…

His mother was hollering again, hurtful things that no mother should scream at her child. She looked ridiculous…ridikulus!

"Ridikulus!" Blaise shouted, but nothing happened. He tried again. "Ridikulus," he said, his voice steadier this time around.

"I love you, Blaise," his mother smiled back at him. Blaise sighed, that was much better, said the spell one last time, and the boggart disappeared. There was silence in the room for a few seconds.

"I thought you said you got over that" Draco breathed, not daring to move a muscle.

Blaise slowly shook his head. "I guess not," The two boys didn't say anything for a moment.

"You sure you're going to be okay?" Draco asked, concerned for his friend. Blaise nodded shakily.

"Yeah, let's go to dinner."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Draco asked, watching Blaise wearily.

"Can we just pretend that didn't happen?" he asked hopefully.

Draco, who had already opened the door, turned back with a blank look on his face. "Pretend that what didn't happen?"

Blaise smiled thankfully and went down to dinner, reasons for needing hair gel long forgotten but reasons for why he was friends with Draco running through his mind.

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